


Happiness

by W_rabbit



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 18:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W_rabbit/pseuds/W_rabbit
Summary: During his life, Wilson didn't have much chance to be happy.





	Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Took a short break from writing the Howl's Moving Castle AU because I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT WINTER'S FEAST UPDATE OKAY..................
> 
> Also Klei said Wilson will never be happy BUT THEN THEY MAKE ALL THIS ART OF HIM SMILING WITH OTHER SURVIVOURS, MMM WHY U LYING KLEI, WHY U FUCKING LYIN'
> 
> This fic is rated H for headcanons and canon interpretation but some stuff is referencing the actual canon lines in the game, like:  
> (Upon examining Eggnog with Max) "My... favorite... she remembered."  
> (Upon trying to give Telltale heart to Abigail with Max) "I had to try."
> 
> So yeah, let me just....  
> 
> 
> As always smooches for my gf for checking the stuff for mistakes! <3 Hope you guys enjoy! ;w;

During his life, Wilson didn’t have much chance to be happy. Born in a royal family he was surrounded by hypocrisy and venom from the very beginning. At first there was nothing wrong with a boy that preferred catching bugs and frogs over attending dinner parties but this preference stayed with him as he grew older, quickly marking him different between other nobles. From there on the distance between him and the others only grew. A noble was supposed to be educated but not passionate about science and certainly not trying to practice it on his own. When Wilson was expelled from the university for something labeled “dangerous experiments” (he might have taken chemistry classes a bit too far), his family was disappointed but it’s not like there weren’t any other ways a noble could become successful. They disowned him only when he refused to marry and announced that he was going to continue studying science on his own. It was fine, he thought, nothing he couldn’t handle. He was getting away from his uptight and vain family, constant nagging “Percival this, Percival that”, being introduced to a new marriage candidate every week to pursue his dream of being a scientist. What could go wrong?

Well, first of all, money could go wrong. He learned the hard way that no university will hire a teacher who hadn’t finished his studies and without a job he won’t be able to buy equipment, tools and most importantly a place to stay. He worked some part-time jobs like delivering papers and after finally gathering enough money to buy everything he needed, he retreated to an old family cabin in the woods to work on his groundbreaking discovery that would open the door to the finest universities in the world.

The cabin was different than what he remembered from his childhood. No one had clearly been there for a very long time. The gate in the wooden fence was broken and so was the window on the attic, there were some suspicious fungus’ growing in the bathroom and the nearest house was twenty minutes of walking away but he still had hopes. He was going to turn his life around and become a great, respected scientist.

But the days passed and nothing came to his mind. No brilliant realization, no extraordinary idea that would be able to change the world as he knew it. Most of his experiments quite literally exploded into his face, making a huge mess of his well-cared for hair.

One would say that to accept help from a suspicious voice coming from a radio, Wilson had to be out of his mind but the truth was much simpler. He was desperate, slowly losing hope and beginning to realize that maybe his dream was too far-fetched and his passion not a blessing but a curse. Maxwell’s offer of power, of forbidden knowledge that no man had ever possessed gave him a new hope. Maybe it was risky but at that point he had nothing to lose.

Or so he thought.

His first days in the Constant were a series of trials and errors. He was in a completely different world with different rules and as far as he could say, besides him, Maxwell and that mysterious presence that would creep closer each time he stayed in the dark for too long there was no one else here. He had a hard time telling if Maxwell and the presence were even human. Either way he thought he was doing pretty good, gathering food, setting up a base and avoiding monsters. He even managed to handle two aggressive and very stubborn hounds that at some point came completely out of nowhere and attacked him. He did have some nasty bites after but he knew enough about medicine to properly take care of his injuries.

And then winter came.

Freezing to death away from his camp because he ran out of grass and couldn’t make a fire he thought that his life had been pretty damn shitty. He achieved nothing and he was going to die in some crazy dimension and no one back home would even care. The most ironic thing was that if he managed to get back and document all that happened to him, every university would fight to have him. But no, he had to run out of grass in the middle of his trip to get some more food. Maybe at least life after death was going to be more merciful on him.

Turned out it wasn’t because when he opened his eyes, he was in exactly the same situation as for the first time, Maxwell standing above him with his stupid cigar and a smug grin, telling him to find something to eat before the night comes. This cycle repeated over and over until he’d lost count of his deaths and new beginnings. Even after he wanted to give up and let the Deerclops crush him with his claws or accept that all of his base burned down and burn along with it, he would always wake up again and start from the beginning.

He learned how to survive in that world. He learned to make tools, weapons, protect himself from monsters and try not to go crazy at the same time. Sometimes deaths still happened because of something stupid like accidentally hitting a beehive after a fight with a bigger enemy but he got a hang of it. Despite constant danger, limited amount of food and going completely insane a few times he wasn’t allowed to die so there was no point in giving up. If he had no way of dying for good he could only try again and again to progress further.

He had found Maxwell’s door. They didn’t take him home but they took him somewhere and each time he created another portal to progress Maxwell grew angrier and more monster-like. At some point Wilson wasn’t even sure if that even was Maxwell or just some shadow creature impersonating him to stop Wilson from reaching… What exactly? He had no idea but he wasn’t giving up.

This wasn’t easy either. He had no idea what was waiting for him. He had made many mistakes that sent him back but in the end he managed to reach the place covered in darkness. He kept pushing ahead, following his rod with something awfully similar to the radio he used to have in his cabin on top until he reached a room with a throne. On the throne he found Maxwell, bound to it by shadows accompanied only by a gramophone playing one melody for all eternity. It was such a miserable sight that he decided to take mercy and free him and as soon as his corpse turned into dust right in front of Wilson, shadow hands grabbed him and confined to the throne just like Maxwell before him. And there the hope was gone again. Until now he had been in this world and in some wicked way, knowing that another person shared his fate would bring him comfort. Now he was alone without even Chester to keep him company. Who knows how long Maxwell had been a prisoner to the throne and who knew how long was he going to have to deal with this? He was hoping for freedom but what he got was even worse than the life in the Constant.

To his surprise, however, it wasn’t long until he heard footsteps in the dark and a woman approached him. She moved closer, smiling and for a short moment hope was there again. Maybe she will help him. Maybe she will free him.

And she did but not in the way he’d want her too. Free from the throne, he was tossed back to the Constant and ended up in the middle of his own base. Despite that he still couldn’t be happier to see this place again. He could work here. As long as he had his tools he could find another way of escaping.

And then a confused Maxwell stumbled upon his camp. Wilson’s first instinct was to punch him in the face but they were both in the same boat now and not talking to each other wasn’t exactly going to solve anything. After the first few days of silence, he decided to give Maxwell a chance. Together, they started working on a portal described in his book, Codex Umbra. For the first time Wilson shared his life and space with someone else. For the first time he wasn’t alone in this hell. Dislike faded away, turning into a sense of dependency that then turned into fondness. Snippets from talks with Maxwell let Wilson create a picture of what his life had been before getting into the Constant and he found out that to some extent they were both equally miserable.

A failed magician and a failed scientist. What a pair did they make.

The portal thing turned out to be a fiasco, obviously. Wilson could feel his hope being torn away from him yet again but he had no time to dwell on it because the newly arrived people needed help getting used to and introduced to the new unforgiving world. During the first night, when everybody was asleep, he could hear Maxwell curse Charlie for bringing his niece here. He was never a man good with words so he just approached him and put his hand on his shoulder. Together they sat in silence, huddled close and watched the fire until the morning greeted them with the sounds of hounds approaching and they had to get ready to fight.

More people came later. Their base became big and busy, there were more mouths to feed but also more hands to fight and gather. And although Charlie had much more flair than Max and was constantly surprising them with new challenges, together they were undefeated.

Wilson had never been good with people. Many considered him a bit rude and cynical, others hated his puns but he couldn’t say that he’d ever been really close to anyone back at home. Maybe uncle Warbucks who would visit him each time he came back from another trip to some faraway continent, bringing exotic gifts and telling stories about jungles filled with dangerous animals and ruins full of treasures. His family always considered Warbucks a bit of an eccentric but Wilson liked that side of him. Besides that even his parents at some point started feeling like strangers.

Now, knees deep in snow, he was standing on the lookout, watching out for dangers while all those people who had the misfortune of ending up in the Constant… His family, were opening up gifts they’ve found under the decorated trees and sharing gingerbread cookies. It was this time of the year again. He didn’t exactly know what Charlie’s purpose was in allowing them to find traditional Christmas foods and decorations in this world but he kind of appreciated that. It was nice, knowing that besides death and danger there were still some pleasures waiting for them.

Maybe there was darkness in front of him but with light and warmth of the fire behind his back, with laughter and jokes reaching his ears it was less scary than he remembered.

“So I hear the Deerclops hunt went well”, a voice behind him said. He turned around to see Maxwell holding a one cup of eggnog and one cup of hot cocoa. He was wearing a puffy vest and a ridiculous hat that looked like a big piece of gingerbread. He passed Wilson the cup of cocoa and took a sip of his eggnog.

“Yeah, the beast’s dead. Shame you couldn’t see how Wigfrid ended him. It was spectacular. I could even say you should deerly regret it”, Wilson grinned, hearing the resigned groan from his companion.

“Remind me why did I even come to speak to you?”, Maxwell asked but there was no venom in his voice.

“Because I’m your favorite scientist in all this hellhole?”, Wilson suggested.

“Not much competition I must say”, Maxwell pointed out. Wilson only laughed at that.

“That’s the point”, he said, moving a little closer. “How was the gathering trip by the way?”

“A success. Stone and wood will last until spring, I’m sure. We’ve also brought some berries and carrots that we found on the way”, Max said, clearly satisfied. His shadow clones were the backbone of gathering resources for the survivors and he was very proud of that since there was not much use for him when it came to battle. Wilson liked to joke that a bee would last longer than Max in a fight.

“Looks like we won’t have to feed you to the hounds yet”, Wilson decided mercifully.

For a moment they stood in silence, drinking their warm beverages. The cups felt nice against their cold hands and were a real blessing in the freezing winter.

“She remembered eggnog was my favorite”, Maxwell said quietly, looking into his cup. He looked sad and Wilson hated when he made that face. It wasn’t how he knew the Amazing Maxwell, always presented on the statues with a wicked grin on his face. It wasn’t how he was supposed to be but this was real and the statues weren’t. His Max would get sad over Charlie. His Max would fuss over Wendy and Webber getting cold, his Max would try to bring Abigail back to life even though he was fully aware that’s not how his own world worked. Wilson finished his cocoa in one big gulp and put the glass away before cupping Max’s face in his hands.

“Don’t get sad over eggnog or I’ll have to dispose of it”, he said warmly. Max laughed shortly, putting his hand on Wilson’s. With time dislike faded away and turned into a sense of dependency that later turned into fondness. Fondness turned into something warm and gentle that neither of them would dare to call “love”.

“Don’t do that, it warms me up”, Max said quietly.

“I can do that much myself”, Wilson smirked mischievously and then looked up. They were standing under a leafless birchnut tree at the edge of their base. “Has this mistletoe been there before?”

“Who knows?”, Maxwell leaned in and kissed him softly. Wilson kissed back, putting his arms around Max’s neck. In his life he had never gotten much chance to be happy.

Maybe this was it.


End file.
